


A For Effort!

by littlealex



Category: Arashi (Band), Johnny's Entertainment
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-20
Updated: 2009-12-20
Packaged: 2017-10-12 07:16:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/122297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlealex/pseuds/littlealex





	A For Effort!

"I think I'm going to kill myself," Ninomiya-sensei said dramatically as he entered the teacher's lounge.

"Again?" Matsumoto-sensei said blithely, not looking up from his stack of essays. There was a red pen in one hand and a large mug of coffee in the other, and the look he gave Nino over the top of his glasses suggested there was only one person in the room worthy of committing suicide.

"I just had five girls complain of period pain so severe they couldn't read the questions on their exams. I excused them, of course, because how can I prove otherwise, and the guys went into a fury. Meanwhile, Tanaka-kun throws up right on the floor from all the stress... seriously, you'd think this was kindergarten." Nino flopped down into the couch across from Matsumoto, who just blinked.

"You have no control over a class, do you?"

"Like you do, Matsumoto," Sakurai-sensei put in as he, Aiba-sensei and Ohno-sensei entered the room. "You don't have control over a class, you just charm them into liking you. All the girls swoon over you and all the guys want to be like you."

"Look who's talking about himself again," Aiba teased, poking Sakurai in the ribs playfully before going over to sit beside Matsumoto-sensei. "Hey, Jun-kun, let me help you," he said, easing the mug of coffee carefully from the other man's fingers. Matsumoto-sensei made a low, growling noise that didn't deter Aiba whatsoever from fussing further over him and pushing the glasses up over the bridge of Jun's nose as though the eyes behind them weren't glaring daggers at him.

"How are your classes, Ohno-sensei?" Nino asked as Ohno sat beside him on the couch.

"Tiring," Ohno replied, handing a stack of drawing pads to Nino, who snorted at the suggestion. Ohno was the art teacher for the upperclassmen, those who had taken the extra time in their timetables and put it towards studying art. He always argued that it was better to teach these classes because they were actually interested in the subject, but the rest of them were pretty sure that it was because he didn't have to teach as many classes.

"Really? Tiring? It's just art," Nino replied, flicking through the first drawing pad on the pile.

"You try grading shitty sketches of a fruit bowl all day. There's only so many ways you can gently encourage them to find another hobby."

"Grading art must be tough, though," Sakurai said, pulling a pile of papers from his bag that was at least twice as large as Matsumoto's. "I mean with history, just like with math, Ninomiya-sensei, there's almost always just one right answer. You grade based on their answer; understanding concepts and showing depth of knowledge is important, too, but most of the time you can say basically if something is correct or incorrect. Art is so subjective."

Ohno just shrugged. "It's not so bad. If the kid can tell me why he wanted to paint a red banana and an orange apple, I'll let him pass."

"Sounds like PE!" Aiba exclaimed. "A for effort!"

Jun closed his eyes at the volume beside him. "Aiba-sensei, as much as I appreciate your efforts, these papers aren't going to get graded any faster with you yelling in my ear."

"What are the essays about?" Aiba asked, seeming to ignore the not-so subtle suggestion that he leave Jun alone (though he did lower his voice). Matsumoto blinked incredulously at Aiba over his glasses, but when all he received in return was a bright smile and inquisitive eyes, he gave in.

"The transition of styles of poetry during the Meiji period." Matsumoto looked pained even as he said it, reaching beneath his glasses to pinch at the bridge of his nose. "I hate poetry fortnight."

"So do we," Nino retorted, just smirking against another harsh glare from Jun.

"Come on," Sakurai said in his teacher voice, barely looking over at the two of them as he scanned the first of many essays he had to grade, himself. "We all want to make it to the end of the day alive, and if you two start fighting then we'll all get caught in the cross-fire."


End file.
